


In the Bleak Midwinter

by m0usielous1e



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Desus Holiday Bingo 2k17, Family Dinner, M/M, Winter Solstice, dressing up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 05:20:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13093239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m0usielous1e/pseuds/m0usielous1e
Summary: "What can I give him, poor as I am?" - Christina RosettiPaul is feeling melancholy, Daryl decides to honour a whim.





	In the Bleak Midwinter

“I miss Christmas,” said Paul one evening, out of the blue, while he and Daryl were keeping watch at Hilltop’s gate.

Rather, Daryl was on watch duty and Paul had come out to join him with a thermos of hot soup and then…didn’t leave.

Daryl grunted at that, not looking away from the expanse of white and brown and green under a pale grey sky that he had been staring at for the past hour. Winter watch was the worst, and since he learned of snow blindness, Daryl had been absurdly paranoid of getting it. 

Paul, not deterred by Daryl’s non-answer, continued, “Like, the group home was not the best place, but it wasn’t one of the bad ones either. The couple who ran the place, they tried, you know? They had already raised a family and decided this was their post-retirement project and they just wanted to help but most of us kids were too messed up by the time we got to them. Martial arts was one outlet for me, and then…Christmas dinner.”

Daryl glanced over at the other man. Paul was wearing a puffer coat, hat, gloves, scarf, and a blanket that Maggie had forced on him the first time he so much as sniffled after revealing that he always got sick in the winter. His nose was a little red and eyes watery with the wind, but Daryl did not see any other signs of fever. He replied, “Man, we don’t even know what time of the year it is.”

“It’s winter,” said Paul. “And Hilltop has a calendar. We’ve always known what day it is…it just, doesn’t matter anymore.”

“That why you talking about Christmas? Your calendar says this is it?” asked Daryl, eyebrow arched.

Paul smiled and replied, “Not for another week, but yeah. I kind of miss it. It used to be great, you know, with the nickname and all.”

Daryl scoffed and turned back to the world beyond the wall. Paul said, “What I meant to say though, was that I liked the way it used to bring us together, if only for a few hours.”  
Daryl looked back at him again and Paul huffed a laugh and said, “I’m sorry. I’m just feeling a little melancholy. We haven’t had anything worth celebrating in a long time, and probably won’t for a while again. I can’t even justify all the work that’s going to take with saying we should do something for the children. Judith, Gracie and Herschel are way too young to know what’s going on and I doubt Carl and Enid care.”

Daryl nodded. Paul shuffled a bit and pulled the blanket tighter around himself. He should have gone back in more than an hour ago, but as usual now when the two of them ended up alone somewhere, Paul had just silently stuck around. Daryl glanced back at the snow-covered Hilltop grounds behind them. They were almost completely alone out there, even Earl had gone into the house for a few hours. Surely Maggie needed Paul’s help with something in there, but knowing her, she would find a way to get him back out with Daryl again.

Daryl really hated how his family had suddenly decided to play matchmaker.

“It’s not a bad idea,” he said eventually, when he turned back to his watch to avoid looking at Paul. “Having a family dinner. Don’t think anybody here cares about the Christmas part, but Rick at least would like the idea of having us all together.”

“It’s too much work,” said Paul, shaking his head. The blond strands among the brown of his hair turned gold in the faint sunlight. 

Daryl shifted uneasily on his foot and said, “Nah. I’m going out later to check the traps. Maybe I got something big. We could roast it and use some of them vegetables that are going bad. I think we still have a whole cache of scotch from Gregory, well, not for the kids but Rick and Michonne and Maggie and them could think of something.”

He stopped when he realised that Paul was completely silent, and when he looked, the other man was staring at him slightly awed. Daryl ducked away from his gaze, cheeks hot, but Paul said softly, “No, yeah, we could…yeah. I would have to talk with Maggie, but that could actually work. But when would we do it?”

“You’re the one with the calendar,” said Daryl, still not looking at him. “But uh, the longest night of the year, the solstice, we can have it then.”

“We could,” said Paul and Daryl could hear the smile in his voice. “Yes, I’ll run it by Maggie and the others, see what they think.”

Daryl waited for the other man to leave, but he did not. In fact, he seemed perfectly content to just stand there until Daryl finished watch and went to check the traps. If Daryl gave Paul the chance, he was sure that the other man would try to follow him out the gate too. Daryl sighed and said, “You should go do that now. I’m going out as soon as Eduardo comes up.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to get rid of me,” said Paul, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Daryl did not try to lie. “You’re shaking like a leaf in the wind. Go inside already. I’m not cold. Can’t enjoy your Christmas dinner if you’re sick and everything tastes like paper.”

Paul chuckled at that and walked to the ladder. Just before he went down though, he said, “We don’t have to do this.”

“Already made up my mind,” said Daryl at once.

Paul laughed louder and left.

 

Daryl thought about that laugh hours later as he sat in the former Saviour outpost that now doubled as a hunting cabin. It was much too big for that, and lonely in the dead of winter, but Daryl did not mind it too much. Sometimes he just needed the time alone to think.

He had not caught anything big in the traps, not that he expected to, so he had taken most of the game back to the Hilltop. Maggie met him at the gates herself, with a raised eyebrow and broad grin that Daryl steadfastly ignored as he went to the trailer he still shared with Jesus to collect a small pack of supplies for his impromptu hunting expedition. She followed him anyway and asked, “Christmas dinner? Really? I remember Beth asking about it once after we lost the farm and you damn near bit her head off.”

Daryl, shoving a spare coat, gloves and scarf into a bag, shrugged and said, “Wasn’t no time to be talking about Christmas when we were just trying to stay alive. Even Lori didn’t want it for Carl, and he didn’t care anyway.”

“He’s excited now. He’s been asking Michonne all sorts of questions about what she thinks they should make and if he and Judith can help. The only reason he’s not bothering Rick is because he says his father can’t cook,” said Maggie, laughing.

“So we’re doing this?” Daryl asked, pausing his packing to look at her.

“How could I deny the look on Jesus’ face? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with a crush so bad,” she replied, grinning.

“Stop it,” said Daryl, without heat. He checked the bag again, then headed for the kitchenette to pack a few cans.

Maggie said, “It’s sweet.”

Daryl grunted. She said, “No, it is. I know you’re not like me or Rick or Michonne, but in your own way this is a step in the right direction. I know we haven’t known him long, but everyone says they’ve never seen him like this. You get him to laugh.”

Daryl shook his head, stopped and looked out at the grounds of Hilltop. Earl was back at work on the forge, building something with Carl’s help. The red-orange glow of the forge stretched far across the snow-covered ground. It was getting late to go out, but the cold had slowed the walkers plenty, so Daryl was not worried. He said, “I know what you guys are trying to do…and, I appreciate it. I do. But I don’t need help.”

“Clearly you don’t, if the way you’ve got Jesus running us all ragged to get this done is any indication,” said Maggie.

“Don’t let him get sick,” said Daryl, turning to look back at her.

Maggie grinned and said, “Come back to us, and him.”

Daryl had found the trail of a large buck almost as soon as he went back out again, but it was hours ahead of him and moving cautiously. The heavy snowpack in some places made it difficult to see where walkers may have gotten trapped and the wrong step could mean a slow, painful death. He gave up when it got too dark, made his way to the outpost and settled in for the night. It was chilly but he had soup and made a small fire. His last thought before he fell asleep that night was that he had not asked Paul when the solstice was.

The next day he started early again, and made good progress. He found the trail and even started closing in on the buck but then it was snowing heavily, and he had to go back to the outpost. He had re-set the traps when he took out the catch, but he wanted the buck. No family dinner was complete without a roast of some kind taking up the centre of the table, or at least that was what he saw on TV, and he needed it to be perfect for Paul.

Daryl did not need any help wooing Paul, if that was what Maggie thought he was doing. Daryl did not know how to woo anyone, and he was not interested in learning. He was no good to nobody, damn near ruined everything he touched, and he was not going to do that to Paul. It was just that he did like the sound of Paul’s laugh and he wanted to hear it more often.

The third day out, which was going to be the last day because if Daryl did not return to Hilltop soon, someone was going to come looking for him and he did not want that to be Paul, he found the buck.

It was part of a small herd moving through the area and Daryl almost felt bad about killing it, but his family had to eat and there was another male, though smaller, following the herd at a distance. From the marks in its fur, he guessed it was a young challenger to the big buck, one who had lost but had not separated from the herd entirely. Maybe it would take over once Daryl removed the old buck, or maybe not, but Daryl was giving it a chance. He shot the large buck through the eye and watched the others scatter as it fell, though one doe did stop a moment to sniff at the fallen animal.

“You’ll be fine. You still got the herd,” he said to it. He still waited until it had made its farewell before moving to retrieve the carcass though. Dixons were hunters and had been raised to respect the nature that fed them.

 

Hilltop was still standing when Daryl drove up to the gate, so he took that as a sign that the others had had no trouble while he was away. 

He went straight to the kitchen to deliver the meat to the cooks, each of who greeted him with cheers, one woman going so far as to hug him and press hot soup into his hands and refuse to let him go until he ate it all. Daryl let them fawn, used to it from Carol, then escaped to the trailer for a needed hot shower and bed.

He had not been actively trying to avoid Paul, but it would not have worked anyway. The trailer door opened as he approached and the smaller man greeted him with a bright smile and then pulled him through into the small, warm space.

Paul began almost as soon as Daryl was inside, “We probably should have waited until Christmas Eve or the day itself to have this but Maggie liked the solstice idea and now its tomorrow and you’ve only just got back. Had any trouble out there?”

“No more than usual,” said Daryl, shedding his outer gear. His clothes were damp now that he was warm again and sticky to the touch.

“The water heater is running low on gas but I think you can have a shower. Did you have anything to eat? I can get you some hot chocolate,” said Paul, already going through the cupboards.

“I’m fine,” said Daryl. Paul came back to take his outer layers from him, wrapping them together into a ball and dumping the whole thing into the laundry basket. “Go get a shower,” he called over his shoulder. “You must be tired and there’s nothing for you to do at the house. Maggie and Michonne are tyrants, and they’ve gotten Rosita, Tara and Enid in on it too.”

Daryl laughed at that and went to the tiny bathroom.

There was barely enough room in the stall for him to move about, but for a minute, Daryl just stood under the water. Paul had barely touched him, but Daryl was warm all over. Since the world ended, Daryl had gotten used to people fussing over him rather than sending him packing with a scold. Merle had stopped once Daryl hit puberty, and even before his brother had not been big on affection. Paul had barely done anything that Carol had not before, but it felt different somehow.

No, he knew why it was different. The way the other man’s eyes had lit up when he opened the door, like he was happy to see him coming home, as if he had been waiting for him, had warmed Daryl more than the meal.

Daryl was yawning heavily by the time he finished his bath and pulled on the thick sweatpants and long-sleeved Henley tee that Paul had laid out for him. The other man was settled on the couch, reading, so Daryl dropped heavily onto the bed.

“Don’t worry about me, I have watch duty later so you can stay there,” said Paul from the couch.

Daryl opened his mouth to respond but was asleep before the words could form on his tongue.

 

Rick came to get him early the next morning. Paul was asleep on the couch, and Daryl had been moving as quietly as he could to avoid waking the other man as he prepared to head to the house. Rick ruined that, of course, by knocking loudly at the trailer door.

Daryl hurried to open the door from the first few sharp raps, and greeted his brother with a hissed, “What?”

Rick, bundled warmly, fell back a step and grinned, then asked, “I’m not bothering you, am I?”

“You’re going to wake Paul,” said Daryl, keeping his voice low. He glanced back into the trailer to find that the other man had merely shifted onto his other side but was still asleep. When he was really out, Paul was all loose limbs and wild hair.

“He’s going to have to get up soon, anyway. You and me, though banned from going out of the community together, have been assigned to firewood and tree duty.”

“Tree duty?” asked Daryl, not quite believing his ears.

Rick grinned wider. “Didn’t Jesus tell you? Well, he did say that you just came back and went to bed. Yeah, Michonne wants a tree. Said the kids need one.”

This was getting out of hand now, but it was too late to stop it, so Daryl went back in for his coat.

They found the tree first, and dragged it back with Eduardo and Dante’s help. Carl wanted to join them but Michonne had apparently assigned him and Enid to making decorations with the little kids. Daryl caught a glimpse of them surrounded by strings of stale popcorn, Judith sternly telling Gracie that she could not have any.

Back out to cut the firewood, Rick waited five minutes before he began, “Jesus is a good guy.”

Daryl did not pause his axe, but he did flash Rick a quick, unimpressed look.

Rick laughed and said, “Michonne says that I should let you know that we love you and support whatever decision you make. I want to let you know that as your brother, I reserve the right to kick his ass if he does anything stupid, but I’m here for you whenever you need me. I advised Glenn, you know.”

Daryl stopped then and stared at Rick until his brother said, “I’m serious. This is a good thing. No matter what is going on inside that head of yours, you know that’s true. You also know that Jesus is a good guy who would not be leading you on or playing games or none of that nonsense.”

Daryl ducked away from Rick’s stare, but nodded once, twice. His ears were burning, red with cold and his blush. A moment later, he felt Rick pat him on the back, once, and Daryl began, “You know, you guys…this isn’t—”

“Don’t even try that with me,” said Rick, suddenly stern.

When Daryl looked up at him though, his brother was smiling. Daryl lifted his chin and said, “Okay…okay.”

 

Michonne, in a long, heavy coat, was waiting for Daryl when he got back to the trailer, and with Paul nowhere to be found, he suspected shenanigans. He said, “Whatever it is you guys are up to, stop it.”

Michonne smiled at him and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just here to make sure that you’re appropriately dressed.”

“Okay. Let’s go to my walk-in closet,” said Daryl, rolling his eyes.

Michonne snorted, and said, “Maggie actually sent over a suit. This is a formal dinner, so we’re all dressing up.”

Daryl gave Michonne a quick once-over, noticing a hint of red lace at the bottom of her coat, and asked, “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” said Michonne with a nod, grinning. “There were some old clothes in the house, but I remembered a department store in a town near Alexandria. Took less than a day to get clothes for everyone. You’re going to look great. It may be a little tight in the arms, but I doubt Jesus is going to care.”

Daryl just sighed and started stripping. Michonne did not turn around, but said, “Shower.”

Daryl sighed again and marched past her into the bathroom.

She was still there when he came out a little while later, sitting on the couch and reading one of Paul’s books of poetry. When he moved to the bed to put on the suit, which looked a little busted up and was definitely going to be tight on his arms, she said, “If you want us to back off, I’ll tell the others to drop it.”

“They wouldn’t,” said Daryl.

“They would,” she insisted. “This is your life, not ours. You should only make a move when you’re ready.”

Daryl paused to look at her. Her back was turned and she was still looking down at the book. He asked, “What did you guys do?”

She snorted and said, “Honestly? Nothing. We’ve been busy putting together dinner. You might be seated next to Jesus later, but that’s about it. Everything that happens, or doesn’t, is up to you guys.”

“So I shouldn’t expect some nonsense like mistletoe over our chairs?” asked Daryl, only half-joking.

“I’ll tell Rick to take it down,” said Michonne, rising to go.

“What?” Daryl asked, mouth falling open.

Michonne laughed and said, “We didn’t, but that would have been interesting to see.”

“You’re terrible, woman,” said Daryl, not at all amused.

Michonne smiled and walked over to help him fix the buttons at his wrists. “Made you laugh though,” she said, dipping slightly to meet his gaze. When he looked at her, she leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek and said, “Whatever you want to do. We’re going to respect that. You know that right?”

“I know…Rick told me,” he said, nodding.

“Good. Now, let’s go get your man,” she said, slipping her arm into his.

He pulled back, glaring at her and she cackled.

 

The formal dining room at Barrington House felt as if it had shrunk several sizes since Daryl had seen it last. With most of the residents packed in, except those on watch, the place was surprisingly cosy.

The kids had done a great job on the tree. There were no lights, but the handmade decorations kept drawing Daryl’s eyes until he realised that they had repurposed a chess set. The table spread was mouth-watering, the smell of roasted meat, alongside freshly-baked pies, bread and vegetables heavy in the air. And of course, everyone had indeed found something fancy to wear. Michonne was actually wearing a red lace dress under that coat, and put Judith in a red plaid one. Maggie had found a white satin gown, and baby Herschel had his own penguin suit, though there was a lot of drool gathering at his mouth, so he probably would not be wearing it for long. Tara and Rosita wore black and silver and Enid had found a green tulle dress that her parents might have happily seen her off to prom in. In the candlelight, the women’s dresses shimmered and sparkled, their slightest movement adding a magical touch at the periphery of his gaze. In contrast, the men all wore dull, dark-coloured suits like Daryl’s, including Paul, who was holding pretty-in-pink Gracie and chatting with Aaron.

It was Aaron who noticed him first, glancing up a moment and then again to smile. Daryl dropped his gaze, not liking the hint of mischief in the man’s eyes, but when he looked up again, it was to meet Paul’s gaze.

Paul’s gaze was soft, his eyes a warm ocean blue, but it heated Daryl to his bones. This was the look he had been expecting when he decided to do this. There was no use denying it to himself. 

Thankfully, Rick cleared his throat then and said, “Okay, that’s everyone. I’m starving. Let’s sit.”

“Let me get her from you, you go sit,” Daryl heard Aaron say. Someone guided Daryl to the table and sure enough, he was seated next to Paul. But Michonne was on his other side, then Rick at the head of the table with Maggie on the other end, and Carl opposite, then Aaron and Bertie. Enid sat with Maggie, and Rosita and Tara opposite each other in the middle. And when Daryl looked over at Paul, the other man was beaming.

He noticed Daryl looking, turned to him fully and said, “This…is better than I had in mind. Thank you.”

Daryl could not hide his red face, not this close, but he said, “It wasn’t me. Was a lot of other people. Your idea.”

“Don’t be modest. You made this happen,” said Paul, looking around the room. When his gaze returned to Daryl, he said, “I don’t think I—we could ever do enough to deserve you.”

Daryl did not know what to say to that. He was not even sure that he could come up with a response that would have been coherent. His heart was still racing, had not slowed even a little since he laid eyes on Paul. Actions had always spoken louder than words for him anyway.

He nudged Paul’s knee with his own and said, “Shut up, we’re going to miss Rick’s toast.”

Paul laughed and nodding, looked over to Rick. Daryl did not move his leg though, and Paul did not either.

**Author's Note:**

> I used three prompts for this, which wasn't the plan, but today is Winter Solstice and our captain, Tom Payne's birthday so let use all of the prompts! Yay! *throws confetti*
> 
> Alas, this is a Desus challenge, but it's Steven Yeun's birthday too. They could have killed Eugene and saved Glenn but noooo. #stillbitter


End file.
